


(Not) Coping

by Socially_inept_bean



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Self Harm, Cuddles, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental self harm?, Panic Attacks, Sensory Deprivation, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, brother cuddles, voluntarily though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Socially_inept_bean/pseuds/Socially_inept_bean
Summary: Sometimes Connor just needs an escape from the world. Nines is there to help, as always.
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Upgraded Connor | RK900
Comments: 7
Kudos: 56





	(Not) Coping

**Author's Note:**

> I want to make it clear, He’s not suicidal. Hank just is just scared he is. The tag may be over cautious, but you can never be too sure. Heed them tags.

It’s really a beautiful night. Not too cold, not too hot. There was a sprinkle of rain, occasionally splashing the top of his head with a droplet of water. He’d turned down his sensitivity to external stimulus, so the sounds of the city were practically non-existent. All that was left was the slow breeze brushing the hair across his face, the dull crash of waves from below, and the occasional cricket. Only to be ruined, by a loud, although muffled, concerned shout behind him.

“Connor? Whatcha doing, bud?” Why was Hank so concerned? There really was no reason for it. He was just enjoying the night- oh. He supposed sitting on the edge of the concrete, legs swinging over the waves precariously wasn’t the best way to reassure his friend.

“I’m listening,” the android replied eventually. He noticed it took himself a few moments to respond, thoughts dragging like molasses.

Everything seemed a bit slower than usual. He perhaps shouldn’t be sitting on the ledge, then, if he couldn’t catch himself. But he couldn’t bring himself to particularly care. Besides, getting up seemed like a monumental effort right now. Logically, he knew it wasn’t, but he just. . . didn’t feel like it.

“Listening to what?” Hank questioned in concern. The android turned to look over his shoulder. Hank was very concerned, wasn’t he? Maybe he should assure his friend he was fine. . . because he was. So he’d tell him that. But he has to answer the question first. What was it again? Oh, that’s right.

“Everything. And nothing. And several things no one else can hear, strangely.” Connor noted the almost wistful tone of his voice. It was nice. Smooth. So unlike that of his friend.

Currently, Hank’s voice was very grating on his processor in comparison. Now that he’d noticed that, he started to itch. But only on the inside. If he assured Hank he was fine, would he go away?

“I assure you I’m fine. There is nothing to worry about.” There. But that only seemed to make him more upset. Why would that be? He said he was fine, and he was, so there was no need to stay. Unless he needed something?

A tiny spark of something flared in his chest, such a strange and unwelcome feeling. He was feeling so nice and calm before. Now he was worried. And he was irritated. Frustrated. He shouldn’t get frustrated by his friend needing help.

“Do you require my assistance?” The human shook his head. That’s when Connor noticed Nines getting out of the car behind Hank. His brother said something to the human, something too quiet for his lowered sensitivities to pick up, so he turned back to the view.

He could raise them again, but he didn’t need to know. He only kind of wanted to know. And raising them would mean everything would be loud and grating and a  _ lot _ . No. Maybe he should lower them a little bit more. A bit more couldn’t hurt. It would only help.

When he felt the texture of the concrete beneath him and heard the sound of a cricket nearby dim, he felt a wave of calm wash over him. That was better. Much better. He relaxed, the synthetic muscles he didn’t know he’d tensed unwinding as he stared at the horizon with an unfocused gaze.

He vaguely noticed a form settle itself a few feet away to his right. He didn’t care. People were allowed to be here, it wasn’t his ledge. As long as they didn’t talk, or touch, or any of that. He was fine.

“Connor?” A soft voice broke through his haze. He blinked slowly, turning to look at Nines, who’d been the person to settle by him. The voice wasn’t scratchy and rough like Hank’s. That was good. He didn’t like that itch. Just the low vibration setting the sound apart from Connor’s own voice.

“Yes?” He was aware he was quiet and far away, just as his eyes were drifting away from his brother’s, his voice followed, letting him be nudged into a world only he could see.

“Can I come closer?” He stared at the space a bit to the left of Nines’ head. Had he asked a question? Yes, he had. That’s right. Of course he could. Nines was always welcome.

He voiced as much, with another ‘yes’, just as distant and soft as the first. The body shifted, scooting up to sit next to him. He was about. . . near him. He was near him. Not near enough to touch him, but close enough to talk and maybe touch if they wanted to but Connor didn’t really want to.

Nines usually respected that so he wasn’t worried. He couldn’t really be worried, only calm. He did that in purpose. Worrying led to bad thoughts and that was what got him here in the first place. Bad thoughts. Bad, bad thoughts. What were they again- No, no no, that’s fine. He didn’t want to know. That was fine.

“It’s nice out tonight, huh?” He nodded slowly, drifting away to gaze back at the horizon. Nines nodded as well, staring off at the same place as a Connor was. After a few seconds of pleasant silence, Nines spoke again.

“Tell me when you want me to come closer and I will. Or you could come closer. I don’t mind which.” Connor blinked once, then twice, then many more times as several minutes passed. Nines had said when he wanted. That was nice, but Connor didn’t really want much of anything right now.

So they sat in silence for a long time. Nines waited. And he waited and waited. He didn’t say anything more, and he didn’t ever seem to get annoyed. That was nice.

But then the older brother started feeling tired. His eyelids drooped, and he felt himself beginning to sag under the weight that seemingly perpetually rested on his shoulders. He was staring down at the waves now, and gave a low hum, hoping Nines would understand.

He did, scooting up next to his brother, wrapping an arm around him and keeping him steady. Connor relaxed into his brother’s side, letting him take some of the terrible weight from him. He was tired. He was always tired. It didn’t help when he was also physically tired, but it didn’t harm anything either. Well, it kind of helped. Then there was something else to feel than mentally tired. A distraction.

This was nice. Warm. He liked this. He let his head rest on the other’s shoulder, eyes dipping shut. He quickly blinked them back open. It got rid of the visual stimuli, but only increased everything else. If he lowered things anymore he wouldn’t feel anything at all, and that wasn’t the point. He wasn’t exactly sure what the point  _ was _ at that stage, but some part of his mind that wasn’t clouded with a destructive calm said it wasn’t that.

“You feel like raising your sensitivities back up?” Nines asked softly. It might not have been softly. It was muffled, far away, imprecise. Connor shook his head into the shoulder it was resting on. “Just a bit, for me? I’m sure you can’t hear me very well right now, and you can’t fully appreciate a cuddle half hug when you can’t feel it.”

Connor melted into the warm embrace, curling in on himself. This is nice. Warm. Oh, there was a question. He didn’t like this question. He didn’t want to. But Nines would be disappointed. . .

“Sure. How much?”

“What are you at right now?” He felt his eyes droop back down in fatigue.

“Ten percent.” Silence. Was Nines already disappointed? No, that’s not right. He couldn’t have messed up that quickly, right? A tight ache wound it’s way into his chest. He wanted to lower them more, but that wasn’t the point. That wasn’t the point but he didn’t know what the point was.

“How about just up to fifteen, okay? Sound good?” Connor blinked slowly, then nodded. Nines took his hands into his own as he carefully brought up his sensitivities.

“No no no no,” The RK800 muttered, tensing as the sound of the wind and the feel of the concrete and the smell of the waves bombarded him. He curled in on himself. “No no no no.” He could hear his rapid breathing.

_No no no no_. He quickly adjusted his sensitivity back down, taking a ragged breath.

“Connor.” He was disappointed. He was so disappointed and it was his fault why couldn’t he have been better-

“Wait- I’m sorry- I can do it-“ he scrunched up again, and his sensitivity shot up to 50%.

He couldn’t see or hear or think and it hurt but he could do it he could. He fought viciously with himself to keep his eyes open. It didn’t make a difference. Everything hurt. Something was clawing it’s way up into his throat from his chest and it hurt and it burned and it ached and he couldn’t stop it but he could do this-

“No, no, Connor, you don’t have to do that-“ was that Nines? Was he still disappointed? But he did it he raised them he could do it he could and his hands were shaking but what of him  _ wasn’t _ shaking and it burned and his breathing was really loud but he could hear it now so Nines must not be disappointed in him anymore because he did it he didn’t fail because he did it he could but did he want one hundred percent he didn’t think he could do one hundred but he would he could he could-

“Connor listen to me, please-“ listen he was listening- did he want one hundred percent? he could he could do that and were those his hands digging into his scalp and his arms and that hurt but he could still do it he could even with the bad thoughts and the ache and the  _ loud _ and the  _ rough _ and both were his lungs but he didn’t have lungs wait did he he didn’t know but they hurt because he was so  loud -

“Can you lower your sensitivity levels back down to ten?” Wait but he could do it he could but he could do it and it hurt everything hurt and his arms ached and what was that liquid it must be the rain because he could do it-

“I know you can do it, I’m not disappointed in you, Connor-“ but he was he could tell everyone was disappointed in him why wouldn’t they be no those are the bad thoughts he didn’t like those thoughts that’s why they were the bad ones-

“Please lower them back down. For me?” For him because he wanted it he could do that but it hurt and he couldn’t think but he could do it-

And he did and he knew he could and everything was quiet now. He sank back into himself slowly. Melting into his brother’s supportive side, he felt a thumb wipe at his cheek, and leave with something wet. Had he been crying? Probably. The echoes of burning pain filled the void in his chest. His ragged breaths tore through the quiet air like a gun through his processor.

“Are you okay?” Connor was. . . no, he wasn’t okay now. He’d admit that much to himself. But he was there, with his brother. He wasn’t far away anymore. He shrugged.

“I’m not disappointed, Connor. I’d never be disappointed in you, especially for something like this. You’re trying your best.”

“But. . . I’m  not ,” he admitted sorrowfully. “I’m not trying my best. It’s just. . . it’s so  _ hard _ to try my best, Nines. And I know I could do better, but I’m so  _ tired, __all _ the  _ time._” Those were the bad thoughts. They didn’t go away like they were supposed to. That’s what they did before.

“Sounds like your best to me. If what you think your best is is you burning yourself out and having a panic attack just to come down from the clouds, I’m honestly glad. But if you can’t bring yourself to do more than you are already, that sounds like your best. It’d be the same for something physical. Just because you can’t push a tree down by yourself, doesn’t mean you’re not trying your best for not getting an axe. . . Does that make sense? I feel like I could’ve explained that better.” Only kind of. He grasped the general meaning, but he was tired. He couldn’t think.

“I’m tired,” was all he said. Nines nodded, pulling him in closer to his side. They sat in silence for a long time, but the bad thoughts kept swirling in his head.

“Not tonight, Nines,” he finally mumbled. “Please, I can’t do tonight, I just wanna go to sleep.”

“That’s alright, I get it. Bed it is. We’ll do this tomorrow, or whenever you’re feeling better.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel better.”

“I know you will. I’ll help you get there. I promise.” They locked eyes for a long several seconds. Connor felt a swell of warmth in his chest. This time he didn’t try to push it down. It felt. . . Nice. “Bed?”

“Yeah.” The RK900 pat his predecessor on the shoulder, before sliding his legs up and over the ledge, planting them firmly on the ground. He held one of Connor’s hands in his while helping the older brother do the same, but he didn’t step onto the ground. His eyes drooped, and he allowed Nines to place his hands under Connor’s arms and lift him up.

Nines helped him stumble exhaustedly to an auto cab. Connor was sure Hank’s car had been there before, but he must’ve gone home. They were out for a very long time, after all. Connor slumped into his seat as Nines input their destination. He was then pulled into a hug as the car rumbled over the road. They never let go of each other’s hand.

When they got home, Hank was hunched over at the table. Connor mirrored the sentiment. Nines pulled his predecessor’s form over to the couch, where blankets were already piled, with Sumo snoring at the edge.

The younger brother quickly lied on his back, and dragged his older brother down to lie on top of him. They situated themselves so that Connor’s ear was resting on his brother’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat.

“I don’t wanna die, Nines,” he eventually murmured.

“I know. I know, Connor. I’m not worried about that.”

“. . . I love you, little brother.”

“I love you too, big brother.” And they waited for a long time for the other to say something else. So long that’s not really what they were waiting for anymore. So long that the stars began to fade from the night sky, and the horizon began to brighten from what they could see through the window.

Connor only drifted off when the sun had just started peeking through the glass. Hank grumbled awake to the sight of the two brothers together on the couch, and smiled tiredly as he draped a blanket over them, and stumbled off to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m in the Detroit: New Era server!  
> Here’s the link if you want to come chat in the New Era! https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm
> 
> I’ll take suggestions/prompts/requests! No promise I’ll get to it, but go ahead if you want me to write it! 
> 
> This was painful to write. I hope you enjoyed it!


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